


I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

by DefinitelyNotStraight



Series: Lost In The Desert (I'm still there) [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Tim Drake, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Brothers, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne is Robin, Gen, Racism, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27148886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefinitelyNotStraight/pseuds/DefinitelyNotStraight
Summary: Damian is nervous, and Tim wants to know why.Cue brotherly fluff, BAMF Tim taking no shit and Bruce getting a fucking talking to because this man needs a parenting manual.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Series: Lost In The Desert (I'm still there) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981727
Comments: 7
Kudos: 419





	I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how businesses work or literally anything about shareholding, so I've definitely fucked this up.

Tim watches. 

He's good at that, always has been. From the rooftops where he stalked Batman and Robin as a child, to being Red Robin and observing now. He has a photographic memory, and never forgets, something that Ra's Al Ghul himself underestimated and that is alot of why his organisation burnt to the ground at Tim's leisure. 

He notices every micro expression, the tension in Bruce's jaw every time Jason calls him Bruce because the man wants so desperately to be 'dad' to him again. However, Bruce has a terminal case of emotional constipation, so Tim doesn't hold his breath over the idea that that would go away any time soon. 

He sees, and it's why he can communicate better with Cass than anyone else in the family. He isn't quite fluent in her language (body language, how she speaks) but he knows enough and he is learning, and he sees the crinkle of glee at the corner of her eyes everytime he gets a little better. 

It's while Tim is watching now that he sees something new. 

They're in Bruce's office at Wayne Enterprises, scheduled to attend a board meeting that could not be delayed any longer. Tim was there, of course, because he runs the company while Bruce travels with the League or bonds with his sons. 

(Tim stopped using that word for himself a long time ago. They are his brothers, his father, but he is not a relative to them. And that's okay.)

(No, no it isn't, but it hurts less to convince himself it is.)

Damian is with them, silent as he often is, in the guest chair while Tim leans against the desk, going over papers with Bruce that he has memorised but Bruce doesn't even seem to trust him with this, is insisting on checking over. 

So, he watches Damian, who worryingly doesn't seem to notice. 

Damian has never been here before, needed time to adjust to western culture and shake off the indoctrination that Talia and Ra's had put into him since he was born. 

He watches Damian fidget with his fingers, just gentle tapping. Anyone else would have written it off as boredom, which it would be with any other kid. He is a 10 year old boy, at his father's workplace, listening to his father and older brother (to the public, that's what Tim is) discuss budgeting and other administrative priorities. 

But, Damian loves math and all this sort of thing. He loved the idea of running the company one day, of having a career other than vigilantism or being a murdering assassin. He never told Tim that, of course, but Cass has, and Tim can see it himself. 

Which is why he frowns when Damian's eyes are distant and a little shinier than usual.

Oh my god, is he going to cry?

Tim absolutely cannot deal with that, but Bruce sure as hell won't. In some ways he's as awful to Damian as he is to Tim, though Damian gets apologies afterwards, and affectionate gestures. 

He texts Tam to call him and when she does, he ducks from the room to ask her what the fuck he should do. 

"I'll postpone the meeting by fifteen minutes, you take him to your office, get some caffeine in the kid and give him the option to talk about what's wrong with him. And pray he doesn't try to kill you again." Tam tells him, and he nods, then gives an affirmative.

"Damian, the meeting has been postponed a few minutes. Come with me to get a drink and a snack, you'll need it. These things get quite long." He pokes his head in and tells the kid, who barely manages to cover his blank state with a sneer at him, before going when Bruce gives the boy a look. 

He leads Damian a few floors up, closer to where the meeting would take place, and where his personal office was.

"Get comfortable. You prefer tea, right?" Tim asks, and Damian nods. He gawks at the office, observing beautiful furniture that was as comfortable as it was pretty, the wall at the back that was just a huge window and looked out to let them see all of Gotham. 

Tim makes the tea. Jasmine, he decides, will help his brother calm down from whatever is bothering him. He makes a coffee for himself, and digs out some gummy worms from his cupboard. 

No one visits him at work, except Tam (and Pru occasionally), but he keeps it stocked with their favourite snacks in case they ever do. 

In hope that they might want to see him. 

"Here you go, kid." He turns, holding the mug and the gummy worms, and stops when he sees Damian frowning in confusion at his desk. 

"This is me." Damian said, and Tim cocks his head to the side. 

"Yes? I have everyone's photo on there." He says quietly, confused at Damian but also a little sad.

Damian looks up, looks at the drink and snacks and seems to be at a loss for words. He takes them, and sips, a guise to sort his thoughts out apparently, and Tim drinks his coffee and waits, moving to sit next to Damian. 

"But... you hate me." Damian tells him after a while, and Tim spits his coffee onto the carpet. 

"I have never once said I hated you, Damian. Where on Earth did you get that idea?" He needs to know, because whoever told Damian that Tim hates him is going to get the nastiest computer virus in the world. 

"I tried to kill you, and I took your costume and your name. I cut your line. You should hate me!" Damian spits out, gaping at Tim, who gives a wry chuckle. 

"Jason slit my throat. He was about 5 millimeters from killing me. Dick took my costume and my role as Robin away, not you. Sure, you were a dick about it, and I was bitter, but even then I never hated you. I was going to give Robin to you anyway, eventually. I wanted to have a little brother and teach you everything." His voice is a little sour, and his hands shake, and he has no idea why he's telling this to Damian of all people.

Damian watches him, and Tim feels like he was put under a microscope.

"What happened? When you went to search for Father? After Richard threatened you with Arkham?" 

Damn him, the kid is much too observant when he knows what to look for. 

"Another time. Maybe I will tell you. But for now, tell me what's bothering you. You're nervous." He deflects, and Damian looks like he might push the issue, but his tapping comes back, and he shovels some gummy worms in his mouth instead. 

"What if they hurt father? Or ruin his reputation because of me? What if they hate me? Because I'm darker than all of you." The last bit was mumbled, but it echoed in Tim's head.

Of course.

Racism wasn't a thing in the League. As long as you could kill and torture and obey the Master, they didn't give a damn what colour skin you had. 

It was here, and Damian was definitely darker than Bruce, his skin a caramel brown. 

"Then I will take them apart bank account by bank account. There is no room for racism in our company, Damian. Trust me, they will love you or they will lose their shares in this company." Tim promises, and Damian seems to relax a little. 

That's good, right?

"Thank you...Timothy." Damian says, and holy shit, Tim thinks he might die of shock and a little bit of happiness. 

"You're welcome, Dami." 

\----------

They all sat down, Damian between Bruce and Tim, the boy still tapping. 

"He's yours, Bruce? Are you sure? How dark was his mother? You're better suited to a proper woman, maybe Selina Kyle, old friend." A man that Tim despised named Eric Fornell cackled, and Tim watched Damian wilt. 

Bruce was bristling, but Tim got there first.

He counted those who laughed, and started sending emails. 

This plan had been in the works for ages, and he was so pleased that he got to finally use it to get rid of these assholes that made his little brother look that upset. 

See, Tim had alot of money. The Drake family inheritance, his wages from being CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and his favourite, the money he had stolen run with from the League of Assassins. 

So much money, in fact, in different if shore accounts, that he could fund the entire company if he wanted. 

But, he wanted to shove their racism right up their asses, so he made a new account. 

Damian Wayne-Al Ghul's new account. 

He had been preparing for this. He emptied a solid half of the League money into the account, and he bought out the shares that Fornell and his racist buddies had. 

There was still loads of money left, but that was for Damian to choose what to do with. 

Just as Bruce began to speak, the doors opened, and security entered. 

"What's the meaning of this interruption?" One man demanded, one of the ones that had given Damian a look that could kill, and Tam entered with a smirk that looked vicious. 

"Mister Drake-Wayne has alerted me that there are trespassers in the stockholder meeting, so I called security." Tam grinned, and Tim stood, blocking Damian from their view. 

"Fornell. Dorian. Grey. Hendricks. Thomas. You're all trespassing." He tells them, and they give him outraged looks, before their cells begin to ring, and they answer to calls from their accountants. 

"What do you mean, it was bought out from me?" They each demanded, and Tim smirks. 

Damian tugs on his sleeve, with watery eyes filled with awe and gratefulness, and Tim smiles, and passes the kid a chocolate bar. 

"What did you do, Tim?" Bruce asks quietly, and he grins at his father-figure. 

"Introducing you to the new majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprises, Damian Wayne-Al Ghul. Anyone got a problem with that?" He asked with a glare, and the remaining stockholders that weren't ending escorted out all smiled and shook their heads. 

"Nice to meet you, Mister Wayne-Al Ghul." They said, and Tim sighed in relief. 

They continued the meeting, and Tim feels his chest heat with joy when Damian ever so slightly shifts to be sort of tucked into his side. 

\------------

"What was that?" Bruce demanded, and Tim stood his ground, glaring at the man. 

"I run your company for you, Bruce. I will not have racist assholes there, especially not when they are saying awful things about my little brother. Go on, get mad at me. Yell at me. It won't have any effect, that's the only tone you have ever used with me, after all. Scolding and yelling only works if the other person has something good to compare it to. I protected my little brother and your company from future lawsuits regarding racist policies that they would have put into place. I will not apologise for that. Damian was going to inherit the company anyway, now it will be easier for him to take over when he's ready." He tells Bruce, who is floundering for a reply and Tim gets a sick kind of pleasure watching it. 

"Since when did you care about Damian?" Bruce asks, and he immediately knows he has said something wrong from how cold Tim suddenly gets. 

"Since always. I wanted a little brother. I was so excited to be able to play video games with him and teach him how to cook, and to watch Pokemon with this boy. But you never took the time to tell him that he didn't have to earn a place in the family, you treated him exactly as Ra's did and he thought he had to lash out and be the best vigilante for your love. And then Dick didn't reprimand him, so he thought he was right. Look at your son, Bruce. He is ten years old and still thinks you'll send him back to the League if he messes up. And that is on you and Dick. But don't you ever dare tell me that I don't care for Damian, because I would die for him." 

Tim's chest is heaving and he is red faced and furious, and if Pru were here, she would be running away because she has seen him angry exactly once before, and it was before he blew the League to pieces. 

Then, he relaxed, and he moved to Damian, who was staring teary eyed and in awe. 

"Come on, let's go and get some Taco Bell using Bruce's credit card." He tells the boy, who lights up like the child that he is and shyly asks if he can get a Crunchwrap supreme. 

Tim buys him two of them, then uses Bruce's card to buy the kid a pokemon plush (Damian really likes Eevee apparently). 

Later, Bruce says he's sorry and that he'll do better. 

Tim doesn't hold his breath, but its okay, because he can help Damian now.


End file.
